While we're waxing all nostalgic, here's me and two of my scruffy companions at one of the various roadside campgrounds in Yellowstone, circa 2010. Mine is the yellow Eureka Apex 2 (the pre-XT version) in the middle. Sometimes I miss that tent. I rode out some truly epic storms in it several times and in several places all throughout the country. But then I remember having to carry it, and then I don't miss it so much. They called it a "backpacking" tent, and maybe it is if you split it between two or three people, but as I recall the son of a bitch weighed something like eight and a half pounds all together. It came with fiberglass poles, for crying out loud. But I will say this about that: Once you had that sucker nailed down, it wasn't going anywhere. You could probably drop a boulder on it. I replaced this a couple of years later with an Apex 2XT for the marginally lighter weight, but this was a bit of a lateral move.

I also realize belatedly that we formed an unintentional traffic light, here.

The green Eureka Backcountry 1 on the left was mine, too. I was lending it to a member of our trio here who didn't have their own tent. That was the tent I actually used for solo backpacking for quite a while (you'll probably see more of it later, if I keep this up) until finally succumbing to the siren song of modern ultralight gear. I gave it away to a homeless dude after I determined I had no more use for it. That tent was bomber, too. For all I know he's still using it.

The orange Marmot there, I think it's an Aura 2P, belonged to my nephew. For some reason he's a clean freak when he's out in the woods, or at least some manner of highly specialized Nervous Nelly, and insists on carrying that full size, full thickness tarp around with him everywhere. It's been literal decades and I still have not been able to get it across to him that he shouldn't leave the corners sticking out like that, lest he accumulate every pint of rainwater in the tri-county area directly underneath the floor of his tent.

This is going to sound like sacrilege, but I really don't recommend Yellowstone. It's too well known, too popular, too crowded, to well-trodden. It's one of those places you have to go if you're into camping and the outdoors just to say that you did, and I did indeed (and even bought a mug, which I still have someplace) but I have no desire to go back.

The Yellowstone area is both incredibly dangerous and incredibly fragile, so the park service has understandably cordoned practically all of it off. This is one of those don't-leave-the-path sorts of places...

...With everything boardwalked up. That means there's nothing to explore and there's nowhere to tread that a hundred other people aren't also treading on right now. So you spend your time climbing over slowpokes and brushing past shuffling tourists who all have their noses in their cameras and aren't paying attention to anything around them. You stand in the same places and take the same photos of the same things that everyone else has done already. I've said it before and I'll say it again: You really may as well just find some rando's Flickr album (or maybe Pixelfeed, if we're bringing this aphorism into the current era) and look at their pictures instead. It'll be just the same, and you won't go home with your clothes reeking of sulfur.

There are certainly some sights to behold. It's a shame about the other stuff, though.

Along the way on this trip we stopped by Laramie in at least some minor tribute to my brother, and drove past where he used to live.

It seems even out there isn't as remote as it used to be.